Reckless -Niall Horan FanFic

Chapter 2

I walked up to my stepdads front door, grabbing the spare key I hid under a loose floorboard of the porch. It was about 10:00am. My stepdad was at work and my stepbrother was probably at some hotel room after a one night stand. I slowly twisted the key, crossing my fingers hoping that no one was home.

I opened the door faster when I realized I was alone. I ran up the stairs to the old, dirty bathroom. I stripped down to my bare skin, ignoring my reflection in the mirror. I turned on the shower, no hot water was left. I let the freezing water cause goosebumps all over my body. I grabbed the bar of soap and washed away the dirt that caked on my skin. I never washed myself when I was at that man’s house the previous night. It was just too peaceful, I decided to relax in his tub instead.

I finished cleaning off the dirt and just let the cold water run down my face. I thought about that man’s house, the one that i’d sneak into almost every night. It was huge, he had about three bathrooms to himself. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I used one. He was always gone, it was a waste of a beautiful home. I never actually seen the guy’s face, I didn’t even know his name. All I know is he has an irish accent, and that he loves food. I raided his pantry once, maybe twice and It was packed with food. i’ve heard his voice when he yelled at the telly, little did he know he had a stanger bathing in his tub.

I turned off the water and stepped out of the moldy shower. I began to dry myself off when I heard the door slam. Brett.

I rushed while putting on a long sleeve and the same ripped jeans wore the day before. I couldn’t let Brett see me naked, he would take advantage of his weak little step sister. I tried to get to my room but as soon as I opened the bathroom door, he grabbed my forearm, re-bruising the blemishes he left last time.

“Come here you bitch!” he yelled in my ear. I tried to squirm out of the grasp he had on me, but I was unsuccessful.  

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He threw me to the ground and straddled me so I couldn’t get up. He flared his nostrils and puffed up his cheeks after every punch to my face. I was used to the pain, I wouldn’t cry anymore. I would just think about the future, how in about 30 minutes, he would leave me be and I could lay on my bed while icing my wounds.

The 30 minutes past, instead of throwing the last punch, he began unbuckling his jeans. My face went cold and I couldn’t breath. I managed to let out a scream, a scream loud enough to make him punch me and knock me unconscious. At least I didn’t have to remember where the scars came from.